


perfect

by sultrygoblin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Jealousy, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25236457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot - “why is james bucky barnes acting so weird around me?” was not a question you had never imagined asking yourself
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 14
Collections: Marvel xReader Fanfiction Fest 2020





	perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kitkat_7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kitkat_7/gifts).



Bucky was acting strangely. And not in the normal way of a man out of time. But especially strange. It hadn't seemed so odd when you were talking to Steve, the way he seemed to saunter up as if he'd always been part of the conversation. They were best friends. It made sense. Then it happened with Bruce, when you were pretty sure he hadn't been anywhere close by. And Sam. Bucky hadn't even wanted to come to this work drinks thing, apparently, and you're starting to wonder if it being one of the few you agreed to come to had anything to do with it. At a certain point coincidence was no longer just that.

“I have been looking all over for you,” came a booming voice that could only be from one man, “You're the only one who keeps up who still gets drunk,” a strong arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you into a tight hug, “It's good to see you.”

“Always a pleasure, m'lord,” you laughed, patting his back as he lowered you to the floor, “Still don't think I ever get used to be literally being swept off my feet.”

“Well, if you ever want to give it a try, I am quite a good teacher,” waving down the bartender which you were quite thankful for, he was impossible to ignore.

Which was the problem, “Didn't know you had to be a god to get a drink around here,” came Bucky's dry sarcasm as he seemed to materialize out of the floor itself.

“Oh what in the fresh hell?” you couldn't help mumbling as you turned to grab your drink, thankful it seemed to fade into the crowd, “Oh, hello, James,” you watched him wince which could only mean he believed he should be in as much trouble as the use of his given name implied, “You've met Thor.”

“Briefly,” just like the smile when he looks at the man, “You got a minute?”

Your friend raises his brows from behind the man, he's thinking the same thing you must be, “I was sort of catching up here,” gesturing between you and the Asgardian, “Seriously, when was the last time you were on Earth?” keeping your eyes over his shoulder.

Fingers curled around your wrist, tight and much colder than flesh could ever hope to be, “ _Please_?”

“I'm sure I'll be fine without our company for a few moments,” clapping the man on the shoulder, “Don't keep her too long.”

The smile given to him is forced and comes with a quick yank as he pulls you far away from the crowd. You want to argue, to ask him what the hell he thinks he's doing, but he won't answer until you've gotten wherever it is he's taking you. What's the point when you know the outcome? Instead you busy yourself coming to the conclusion you had been trying to hard to avoid. This wasn't you overthinking. This wasn't even him looking out for you. This was something much older and simpler. He was jealous. What other reason was there to come storming across the room the second you started talking to the god? It keeps you distracted until a chilled wind slaps you full in the face and yanks you from the thoughts.

It's one of the many balconies in Stark Tower. It's your favorite balcony, more importantly. You've mentioned it precisely once to the man in front of you, in passing, almost a year ago. And the more you look, the more you start to realize that while he was very clearly his own, there had been some decisions made with you in mind. Like the new short cut he was sporting and the sudden onslaught of burgundy and forest green henleys that had appeared. The more you looked, the more you could see, and the more it made you think of things you'd missed. Long before he had become so blatant. He'd remembered your birthday, on his own. He hadn't need social media or your file to remind him. His present had been thoughtful and had come with your favorite flowers. Lots of people had gotten you flowers and presents, it hadn't particularly seemed out of place in the moment. None of his actions had but when you flipped through them now it seemed like a Rolodex of a guy doing everything he can to tell a gal he likes her without ever actually saying it. Which is the most 1940s thing you can think of.

“You're supposed to be smart,” his voice heavy with that sarcasm you've come to know and depend on, “Everyone's always talking about how smart you are but I'm not so sure, dollface.”

He began to uncurl his fingers from your wrist and you can't help darting your free hand over his, stopping the movement in it's tracks, “School smart, boy dumb. It's a blessing and a curse,” only moving your hand once you're sure he had no intention of letting go.

Made clear by his grip tightening again, “Steve mentioned that. I thought he was being melodramatic,” spoken with that obviously tone that only he could have when it came to Captain America, “You can't tell him stuff like that, you know? Government secrets, fine. But after that there's just no filter.”

Your smile is tight, feeling your face heat up, it's that schoolgirl crush sensation that washes over you occasionally with him. The one that might've been the reason you'd been so dead set on the fact that there was nothing there. You were a grown woman who worked for a secret government organization defending the planet from all sorts of unexplainable dangers. But with a smile, compliment and well placed joke a man could reduce you to a puddle of mush to reminiscent of your hopelessly romantic high school self that it seemed impossible. It isn't. It's happening. Right now. Both of you can make all the small talk and jokes in the world but before you walk back inside that door everything is going to change.

“Apparently the same goes for Natasha,” you shoot back as the realization quickly falls over you of what's happening here, “It's probably a little hypocritical for me to say that you could've said something.”

“Only a little,” he laughed, that smirk slipping into a smile that is much more genuine and reminds you why exactly he makes your knees wobble, “But I didn't get an orientation where they tell me specifically to avoid situations like this,” you nodded with a raise of your eyebrows for emphasis, “No, this one's all on me, dollface.”

It's clear he has more to say. He's got this wistful look in his steel blue eyes that tells you everything has simply paused. You turn, tugging lightly with your hand so that you could look out over the city. You know he's looked but you're not sure if he's ever really taken it in. You remember the first time you did. Trying to cool your warm face and slow your rapidly beating heart the first time that nickname he'd given you crossed your lips. The night sky and water back dropping the twinkling lights that replaced the stars impossible to see in the city. It's a slow movement, just a slip and grab and you've got your fingers entangled with his, warmed from your own skin.

“Get me a drink?” you finally say, turning your head to watch him look at you with a quirked eyebrow, “Isn't that what this is all about?”

“No, no it's not,” shaking his head with a smile, both of you taking the last half step to face the other completely for the first time that evening, “We don't need to get to know each other. We're already there. If we go in there _together_ ,” he exhaled slowly, as if not quite sure the words about to come out of his mouth were the right ones but they were the most important, “That's it.”

“Then that's it,” you answered simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “You and me, baby,” melting into one of those confident cocky smiles that started to take a little too much after his own, “You really think there's anyone else?”

“There were very clearly lots of anyone elses,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes, “You're already a bad liar don't make it harder on yourself.”

Both of you might've snickered but the silence that followed seemed electrified. His arms are around your waist almost instantly, hauling you against him. You shriek with surprise, clinging to his shoulders to keep yourself from losing your balance and finding it pointless when your toes lifted from the ground. You don't know who kissed who, just that you're kissing. And it isn't like anything you ever imagined because you'd never allowed yourself to consider the thought. You're oddly thankful for that fact because you never could've imagined something like this. It's being swept completely off your feet. It's having all the air stolen from your body and being perfectly content with the fact your might never breath again. It's everything you'd been hopping from flirtation to flirtation trying to find.

It was just perfect.


End file.
